


smeared

by maureenbrown



Category: Mortal Instruments, Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Femslash, Rough Kissing, Surprise Kissing, this isnt even that edgy okay there's mild mentions of violence and izzy is a flirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 14:51:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8494129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maureenbrown/pseuds/maureenbrown
Summary: Maia pulls her gun from her holster, cocking it once before pushing more bullets to refill it. She feels Isabelle glaring at the back of her head, hear the deft flicking of a knife twirling between her nimble fingers, delicately painted with black nail polish. “You ready, Maia?” Izzy croons, her tone nearly mocking as he presses a fingertip to the tip of her weapon, stopping before blood pools in the area, simply checking it’s sharpened perfectly.Maia wrinkles her nose when she snorts—a stranger could perceive it to be cute, though she’s nothing but cutthroat. “I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.”





	

Maia pulls her gun from her holster, cocking it once before pushing more bullets to refill it. She feels Isabelle glaring at the back of her head, hear the deft flicking of a knife twirling between her nimble fingers, delicately painted with black nail polish. 

“You ready, Maia?” Izzy croons, her tone nearly mocking as he presses a fingertip to the tip of her weapon, stopping before blood pools in the area, simply checking it’s sharpened perfectly.

Maia wrinkles her nose when she snorts—a stranger could perceive it to be cute, though she’s nothing but cutthroat. “I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.” 

Isabelle hums idly, placing her knife back in its cleverly concealed sheath on the inside of her boot, nearly nicking the inside of her calf. “If you say so, compañera.” 

Partner? Is that all?

Maia makes a quiet snorting noise, turning just in time to see Izzy toss her signature pair of brass knuckles to her—she nearly catches them before they clatter to the floor and crush her toes. 

“Let’s go, Maia.” Isabelle says, her voice steely, almost like a purr. She always gets excited before missions. 

Maia manages a short, curt nod before she practically elbows her fellow assassin to the side, pushing her way to the front seat of the van.

…

Isabelle always seems laxer after missions, without the weight of the inevitable death of her next victim hanging around her head. She lounges, her head lolling to the side as she continues to fidget with her knife, her whip tucked securely around her waistband.

Maia sits across her on a bean bag. Every now and then brown eyes meet a similar pair, Izzy always smirking when she’s caught, forcing Maia to glance away in favor of saving her own embarrassment. 

“Can I help you with something?” Izzy croons, and Maia seizes her own brass knuckles, still laying on her hand. 

She examines Isabelle’s face further, scrutinizing the way her eyeliner arches perfectly, the lashes upturned, her Cupid’s bow elaborated. 

“You’re staring, Maia.” Isabelle reminds her, and Maia attempts to scoff.

“I am not. You just have some blood on the side of your face.” Maia recovers quickly, and Isabelle arches one of her flawlessly plucked eyebrows, a rush of air elegantly huffing through her lips. 

“Is that so?” Isabelle asks coyly and disbelievingly, and Maia rises with a convincing nod.

“Yeah.” She grumbles, reaching out to cup Isabelle’s smooth cheek in her hand, feeling the smooth foundation glide underneath her fingertips as she swipes the imaginary blood away. “See, now you’re fine.”

Isabelle cocks her head to one side, quickly latching her hand onto Maia’s wrist before she can tear her hand away from where it’s searing against her warm skin. “You sure it’s all gone?”

“Positive.” Maia says, clearing her throat in the middle of her sentence in what she hopes is an inconspicuous way. 

“I don’t think you’ve gotten everything yet.” Isabelle says before shifting her hand down to her lips. She gives Maia a few seconds of heads up, the pads of her hand probably smearing her lipstick before she’s tugged down and almost into Isabelle’s lap. 

Maia forces herself to stabilize over the bean bag, so much less graceful than Isabelle. She makes a high-pitched whining noise, her façade stammering as she feels their teeth click together. 

Isabelle pulls away from sheer discomfort, scrunching her nose up slightly in almost disgust. “Maia, please.” She says, and Maia narrows her eyes.

“Hey, you didn’t… That wasn’t even a good line, why would I kiss blood off your lips?” Maia manages, narrowing her eyes as she places her hands on either side of Isabelle’s head, straddling her waist properly. 

Isabelle looks embarrassed for a fleeting second, pursing her lips a little—the red lipstick is smudged towards the top corner of her mouth. She plants her hands on Maia’s hips, waiting a second to complain, though she’s cut off almost immediately as Maia lands her lips down upon hers.

Kissing Izzy gives her more of a rush than any task ever has. The other girl brushes her thumbs across her hipbones through her black muscle shirt, tilting her head to the side as her words die in her throat. Their lips finally move in tandem, Isabelle regaining control as she slips her tongue past Maia’s chapped lips.

Maia gasps softly when Izzy probes her mouth open, and she places her hand instinctively on the back of her neck. Her hair is pulled up into a ponytail high on top of her head, though she brushes her thumb through a couple of strands of it. 

Eventually, Maia is the first to pull away, embarrassingly breathless although she keeps their lips brushing. Thankfully, Isabelle looks just as debauched as her, maybe even more so due to the hair sticking up in the back of her head.

“Hey,” Maia muses, pulling away with a brush of her thumb across her lower lip, successfully spreading the makeup further against her skin as she grins. “I guess it really does look like you’re blood now.” 

“Oh, shut up.” Izzy sighs, unbothered, tugging her back in to press their lips together hurriedly.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is @sapphicmaia


End file.
